An Unusual Day
by LooneyLovey
Summary: Alison wakes up one morning to the sound of her cell phone blaring in her ear, the person on the other end is about to turn her world upside down with a single plea. Used to be called 'Electric' but is now being rewritten under this name.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: House M.D isn't mine. If it were House would be snarkier and whack people with his cane more often :) **

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_Allison's POV_

Many people think that I'm morning person, well if they thought that then they would be wrong. I hate getting up in the morning. The only way I function at work is thanks to large amounts of caffeine and chocolate. No one knows my secret though and I would rather it stay that way because you can guarantee that once House gets hold of the information I'll get phone calls at all hours asking for things to be done. I wouldn't put it past him to do so. The only time that my routine got altered was if a patient was in the ICU or had died. Apart from that my routine stayed the same: up at 6.30 am, morning jog, breakfast, shower, get dressed, go to work.

When I got to work I would fill three mugs with coffee, the red one had four extra sugars in it as that was House's. It was what his mood somewhat reasonable during the day. After filling my own mug with coffee I would then sort out the stack of mail on my House's desk, as if he sorted them out himself you could guarantee every single letter would end up in the bin. Sometime later the boys would walk in, drink their coffee – which had nearly cooled to the point where it tasted disgusting – then sit around and wait for a case to be assigned to us. Normally we weren't waiting around for long, then we were off. That was my _usual _day.

But today, wasn't a usual day.


	2. The Phone Call

**Disclaimer: House M.D isn't mine. If it were House would be snarkier and whack people with his cane more often :) Nor do I own 'The Stripper' by David Rose.**

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_Chapter 1: The Phone Call (Alison's POV)_

I woke to the sound of my cellphone ringing on my bedside table.

"Ugh, House," I murmured to myself. I had been meaning to change the ring tone as House had somehow managed to get hold of it and program himself his own ringtone, he tone he had chosen was 'The Stripper' by David Rose. Needless to say, I wasn't amused.

"What?" I snapped into the phone, not pleased at being woken up at such an ungodly hour.

"I need you to come round here now Alison," the use of my first name immediately set me on alert – House never used my first name, not even when he had first interviewed me – but it wasn't just that; there was something in the way he spoke and I wasn't completely sure but he sounded... off.

"What for House?" even though I felt there was something off, I couldn't rule out the possibility that it was just House being stupid.

"I just need you to come round, okay?" his tone was still snarky but I couldn't shake the feeling that was something wrong. I needed more proof.

"No, not okay House. I need a reason. Tell me why I should get out of my nice, warm, comfortable bed and come see you when I will see you in just a few hours anyway?"

"Please Alison. It's important," he never pleaded; this was the proof I needed.

"I'll be round in 15," I hung up. Something wasn't right and I didn't need to waste time in observing the social niceties of ending a conversation in a polite manner.

I literally jumped out of bed, yanked the pyjamas I was wearing off and threw on the first top I came to, then rummaged around in my closet for something decent to pull over my legs. I ran a brush through my hair and picked up my phone and house keys. I would be coming back to get ready for work properly later – that was if I was going to work – it all depended on what House needed from me.

The drive to his house took me less then ten minutes, I wasn't exactly driving at the legal speed limit, and I thank my lucky stars as I hadn't seen any cops or speed cameras on my way.

I ran up the steps to his apartment, endless possibilities running through my head. What if he had taken one too many pills? What if he had slipped and badly injured himself? What if- I stopped myself. What ifs were not going to help me.

When I reached his door I knocked on it like deranged woman, not caring that it was 5am in the morning; House was in trouble.

"House? House, you there?" I yelled.

The door was opened a few seconds later by an apologetic House who stood next to a person all in black. I felt a small pinch on my arm, and the next thing I knew was darkness.

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**Chapters will get longer, I promise. **

**Review and tell me what you think :)**


	3. The Land of Darkness

**Disclaimer: A friend of mine told me today that House M.D isn't mine, I still haven't stopped crying.

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_Chapter 2: I Want To Go Back To The Land of Darkness (Allison's POV)_

When I awoke from the darkness I heard mumbled voices around me.

"Shut up," one of the voices hissed, "if you wake her up, things will only be worse for you."

My memory was a little hazy, but there was one thing I did remember; the reason why I was lying on the floor, half out of it. House had asked me for help.

"So be it, there's blood coming from around her ear. Do you really want her to die?"

As I became more and more alert I could feel the vibrations on the wooden floor. One person was pacing the room because as well as the vibration, I could hear their footsteps against the wood, but the other person didn't make a sound. They weren't moving.

"Wake her up then," the voice belonged to a female, I was annoyed that it had taken me this long to figure it out, "but don't think I'm going to go easy on the pair of you."

"Wouldn't expect you to," said the other, gruff, voice.

I felt the floor vibrate again, but this time I heard a new sound: a cane. The cane got closer and closer, while my breathing got fast and faster.

"Alison, I need you to breath properly for me." I could feel his hand on my stomach, trying to convey what he was saying in his actions – I guessed that was for if I couldn't hear, as he didn't know that piece of information yet. His hand helped me to calm down though and I was thankful when he didn't remove it. The weight on my stomach helped me to keep more or less calm.

"Alison, I need you to open your eyes for me sweetie." S_weetie, _that was new. Something was very, very wrong and part of me – only a very small part – didn't want to open my eyes for fear of what was happening. I wanted to go back to the world of darkness, that at least felt somewhat safe.

I forced my eyes open but all I saw was blurred figures. This wasn't good.

"Alison, can you hear me?" he asked.

I made a sound that didn't sound human, at least to my ears it didn't. I didn't dare think what House must have thought.

"Good girl," he murmured, like I was some kind of dog.

I decided I couldn't stay silent any longer, I had to know what was going on.

"House?" I croaked, and was rewarded with a coughing fit.

After my coughing had died down, he answered my unspoken question.

"Not the time Allie. I need to check your injuries, can you let me do that?" _Injuries,_ plural – as inI had more than one. What happened to me when I was in my world of black?

"Yea-" I didn't finish my sentence because I had my second coughing fit of the day. I winced as I felt a sharp stab in my side.

"I'm guessing that would be a broken rib," I said when my coughing had – once again – finally subsided. My throat was scratchy and dry, but when compared to the pain from my rib, it was nothing.

Everything was starting to become clearer now, and I could finally see the outline of House. I was silent for a few minutes while he ran his hands over my body, checking for any other visible injuries. Had this been any other situation I would have let myself enjoy this thoroughly, but the nagging pain in my side reminded me that this was purely in the interest of my health and well being.

"Alison I'm sorry." He looked so apologetic that I would have put my hand on his, but as well as the pain in my rib, my spacial awareness wasn't the best at the moment. "You have a broken rib, a Grade 2 sprain in your shoulder and a nasty gash to the back of your head. I-"

"And it's only going to get a lot worse," the female voice injected. I could still hear her pacing in the background, and I wondered what she was thinking about.

"I'll look after you Alison, I wont let her hurt you any more," he whispered to me, but him saying that made me feel scared. We were trapped, alone and with a crazy woman who had already done a great deal of damage to me, and I didn't even know the condition House was in yet. What was going to happen next?

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**Thanks for all the great reviews so far, they are what keep me writing :) **


	4. 28 Hours Earlier

**Disclaimer: My friend pulled a horrible prank on me today, she told me that House M.D was mine. I did my happy dance and started telling her of my plans but then she laughed and told me that House M.D really wasn't mine, that it belongs to Fox. Ah well, I can always dream.  


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_Chapter 3: 28 Hours Earlier (General POV) _

All three of Houses 'ducklings' were sitting round the conference table reviewing their reports for Cuddy, and the medical administration board as yesterday, they had lost a patient.

"Cameron," House sang, popping his head round the door connecting to his office, "I want coffee."

"House you have legs, get it yourself. I'm busy."

"But Cameerron, you always make the best coffee! Everyone knows that." Cameron sighed, he wasn't going to give up until he got coffee. She knew what he was like.

"Fine House, I'll get you some coffee. But if you want any more you are going to have to get it yourself," she grumbled.

"Yay!" he sounded like a child who had just been given a bucketful of the most sickliest candy imaginable.

"One time, and one time only House. I'm warning you." She gave him her best 'motherly' glare.

"Yes, mummy," he replied dutifully.

As Cameron entered his office and made her way towards the coffee mug on his desk, there was a knock at the door. House motioned for the woman standing outside to enter while staring at Cameron, more specifically her chest.

"You know," he addressed to the thirty something woman, eyes still glued to Cameron's chest. "If your husband hadn't slept with that hooker he would still be here today. Still pretending you can satisfy him in bed. How does that make you feel?" But, the woman was not to be antagonized, she had been hired for a reason.

"Dr. House, correct?" was her only reply.

"Hmm, depends," he answered, idly twirling his cane in his hand.

"On what?" she questioned, not moving from her spot by the door.

"On what you want," he said, managing to tear his eyes away from Cameron and on to the woman who wore nearly all black; black business suit, black heels, black bag and black hair.

"Well," she said, smiling, "your plan is a little flawed there. I know who you are, and I've come to pass on a message."

"Look, I booked her yesterday and she didn't show. I'm not paying her. So go and tell that to your boss."

"Dr. House, did you ever tell anyone of your obsession of lying about your sexual prowess?" House looked decidedly uncomfortable, and then, in a usual House manner he decided to change the subject.

"Did anyone every tell you that all black is only for funerals and it drowns out your natural colour?" he asked, sarcasm lacing every word.

"The first part your right about Dr. House, I will be attending a funeral very shortly. Your funeral."

Cameron looked between the woman and House, he was enjoys this, the sick bastard was enjoying her threats. Some things never changed, she thought wearily.

"What's the message?" he asked.

"The message is, and I quote; 'I'm watching you.'" House scoffed, and threw his giant tennis ball at her which, unfortunately for him, she caught in one hand. He was so hoping that the ball would hit her in the face.

"Nice catch," he said, "but I'm afraid the threat of 'I'm watching you' has gotten a little old."

"I'm being serious Dr. House and if you chose not to believe me then so be it, don't say we never warned you." If she stood in the middle of town then she could get money for making a pretty realistic statue, House thought to himself. Apart from catching the tennis ball she hadn't moved and he wondered why that was, he decided to try and rattle her, see if he could get any more information out of her that way.

"Excuse me for joking then," he said, sitting up in his chair, "Who's watching me, what do they want?" he said, his voice suddenly completely serious and holding no room for argument. Cameron just rolled her eyes at her bosses change in demure.

"They want you dead Dr. House," she spoke to him as though it were a normal conversation going on between two people. Not one person telling the other that he was a dead man. "We've already been over this."

"You said 'she' before, now you're saying 'they'. Which one is it?" House saw the woman blanch slightly, and became pleased with himself; he was finally getting somewhere.

"It's none of your business Dr. House." But, House could see her become flustered at making a mistake and he wanted to – no needed her to do it again. "All you need to know is to look out, she's watching you and you better be careful."

"You know I could make you tell me," he told her, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he thought of all the different ways he could make her tell him something.

"But you wont," she said smiling, "you like mystery far too much. Good day."

Before either House or Cameron could stop her she fled the room. They saw her almost run towards the elevator then get on it, disappearing from their sight.

"House," Cameron said, looking at House with a mixture of concern and wariness. She knew what he was thinking. "Don't be stupid. You can't deal with this on your own, and you know this. Get the police involved."

"The police... don't be stupid. All I need is Dr. Watson!" House exclaimed, waving his cane in the air like he just didn't care.

"House, you're not Sherlock Holmes and Wilson isn't Watson. You need the police, the _real_ police," she insisted. But it was no use, once House had an idea in his head, no matter how crazy that idea was, he would not give in to even the most simplest of logic.

"That is poppycock," he said, adopting a British Accent, "all I need is coffee. Speaking of witch, weren't you getting me some."

"House-" she groused.

"Coffee" was his only reply.

"Fine," she huffed, storming out the door. "But I'm telling Cuddy," she added in an almost petulant manner.

House didn't answer her back, he was mulling over what the woman in black had just said. The question wasn't who wanted him dead, it was; how many people wanted him dead?

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